“I could punch his lights out,” Bren announced enthusiastically.
I rolled my eyes. Things weren’t progressing exactly as I’d planned, and we’d only just started.
The sheet tugged at my arm. “Joey, like I s-said, I c-could…”
“Not now, Gaz,” murmured Chris, absently interrupting him. There was a glint in his eye. “Leave this to me.” On red-painted, perfectly-formed legs, he marched to the next door and hammered on it.
Things didn’t improve.